Witness
by MickeyandMinnie
Summary: High school is hard enough, now add having to become someone else and somehow hide the fact that you are deaf. Easy? Not for Edward. After witnessing a brutal murder, he and his parents are thrust into the WitSec Program to try and stay alive. He seems to be staying under the radar, until a new student arrives. No matter what he does, he can't thwart Isabella. She is a fixer.
1. Chapter 1

Witness

Chapter One

I had plans. I had well thought-out plans for my life. I was going to finish high school, go to a respectable University, get into one of the top medical schools, and become the next great physician. I was going to help people that were hurting. That's what I have always wanted to do...fix people. I'm a fixer...

That is why I am now sitting on my best friend's couch, staring at the shiny silver badge in front of my face. My eyes repeatedly scan the letters across the top, spelling out the words: United States Marshall.

Another shiver coursed through my body. The comforting arm of my best friend draped across my shoulders. Her gentle squeeze demonstrated her support of my decision to trust them both. I had kept this all to myself for so long, it has started to eat me on the inside. The hair around my ear softly rustled as she whispered.

"It's okay, Bella, you can talk to us. We just want to help."

Long sturdy legs bent in half as my best friend's husband slowly sat down in the chair across from me. I could hear him take a deep breath as he prepared himself to speak to me. My eyes glanced up towards his face expectantly. He smiled gently and his eyes softened. A feeling of peace fell upon me like a soft baby blanket. I closed my eyes needing to pause long enough to enjoy the tranquil feeling as it spread through me.

"I think I need to hear your story, Bella."

That was all it took. One small request, and the safe tranquility surrounding me vanished. Suddenly, I was transported back in time, forced to re-live those crucial moments that have determined my path for the past seven years.

The first memory, of course, was the first day I saw him. I can't say met him, for that didn't happen until a week later. However, it doesn't really matter. The second I saw him, my world shifted.

I had transferred mid-year to live with my Dad and give my mom space and time with her new husband. It was my first day. I was a mid-year transfer senior. They tried their best to match my previous courses, but they were lacking in the Advanced Placement sciences. I was placed in the highest level Biology class they offered. When I entered, the first thing I noticed was all of the lab tables were occupied. All of the students were paired up except for one. He wasn't paying attention to any of the peers around him. He had earbuds in and a dark hood shading a majority of his face. The teacher looked at me apologetically, while mumbling something about that being the only empty spot. I moved towards the table. That is when he noticed me. His glaring stare made it very clear that I was unwelcome. I spent the majority of the class period using my hair as a curtain to hide behind. Even before the bell rang to signal the end of class, he was gathering his stuff and out of his chair. As I left the room and walked through the hallway to my next class, some of the other class members expressed their sympathy. One of the girls, Jessica, walked with me. We had the next class together. On the way there, she filled me in.

"He moved here with his parents two years ago. He has always kept to himself. It is like he is mad at the whole world. He refuses to speak to anyone, even when teachers call on him. He always has those stupid earbuds in and that dark hoodie on. Some of us think he could actually look decent if he would change his fashion choice and actually smile once in awhile. Whatever...just don't waste your time trying to get his attention. He is apparently too good for anyone else, or is too mad to be bothered."

Her words were meant as a warning. She didn't know why, of course, but her intuition told her he was trouble. Maybe I should have listened...


	2. Chapter 2

Witness

Chapter Two

No matter what I did, I couldn't stop myself from quitely observing the emotional loner. He always sat at the back of any room he entered. He always sat alone. I would catch him watching the teachers with intense concentration whenever they were lecturing, but during work time he acted like he couldn't careless about what was happening. He would just sit and write or doodle in this notebook that he always carried around with him. And if it was a film day, forget it. He would just get up and walk out, ignoring the teacher's request that he remain seated. At lunch, he quickly grabbed his selections and then sat at the far back table. His demeanor created a barrier that none of the other peers were willing to cross. It made me feel sad for him. Who likes to experience high school alone?

I realized I had become slightly obsessed, but it was so obvious to me that he was hurting. I felt this unquenchable curiosity to understand his story and to fix whatever was wrong.

I decided to try and talk to him after school when no one else was around. I followed him into the Library. I had to stop and show my new student papers to the librarian to be given access to the resources inside. With my new card in hand, I began to walk around searching for him. After thirty minutes and no sightings, I gave up and left to head for home.

The next few days, I continued to go to the Library after school. I would usually see him ahead of me as he entered through the main doors. However, I could never find him inside. He simply disappeared. At first I thought he must work there, but the librarian assured me there were no student employees or volunteers. Frustrated and a little mystified, I finally made the decision to skip my last class of the day and wait for him to arrive. I found a table close enough to the door to see as people entered, but not in the main line of sight. I waited anxiously. Minutes after the last bell, the door opened. There he was. I watched closely, not allowing myself to get distracted. I was afraid if I even blinked, he would somehow disappear. His pace never slowed as he walked towards the shelves on the far left side.

Standing up with a book in hand, I pretended to be searching for an additional title. I had been watching carefully, and had not seen him exit the area. I knew I would run into him eventually, and I didn't want it to look like I had followed him. Slowly, I made my way to the far left side of the Library. I glanced down each isle, searching for him. No luck. I walked the entire area, but he was nowhere to be found. He had disappeared, once again.

I walked back to my table and sat down. Thinking over everything I had observed about him, I began to wonder if I needed a new perspective. I had taken one look at him and immediately deduced that he was hurting and needed help. Maybe he wasn't hurting at all. Maybe he was just a social pariah. Maybe there was nothing here that needed fixing, except for my unhealthy obsession. I formulated a new plan. I was going to ignore the emotional loner. I was going to focus on my studies and begin looking towards my future.

It took less than a week for a wrench to get thrown right into the heart of my new plan. One of the students in our small lunch group came to the table, steam literally pouring out of his ears. None of us even had time to ask him what was wrong, before he blew.

"Freakin' ahole! I'm so tired of covering for him. Just cuz' he doesn't want to do shit...why do we have to pick up his slack? I'll tell you why...cuz' we don't want to fail this project. It's not like we can just ignore one section and tell the teacher that was his part and he refused to do it. No...he just sits there listening to his music or whatever is on that mp3 and lets us do all the work. I'll be so glad when we are out of here in a few months. I hope I never see that guy again!"

No one spoke for the rest of the lunch period. Lost in our own thoughts, some I imagine were agreeing with the words that had been spoken. I, however, was hit with a new perspective and a new challenge. What if he was standoffish to others as a defense mechanism? What if he had been damaged so badly by others before us that he was in self-defense mode? What if he wanted to make friends, but didn't know how anymore?

My mind was busy formulating a new plan. I would not just approach him. He would respond with rudeness and try to push me away. I would have to use a less direct approach in order to be successful. Since we were already lab partners, I decided that was my way in.

The next afternoon, while completing the day's assignment, I purposefully placed my worksheet in the middle of the table. I had it partially finished, and was studiously searching the textbook for the next answer.

Movement registered in the corner of my eye. When I glanced over, he was writing something in the blank. Slowly, I leaned closer. He nudged the paper to me and I could see that he had given me the answer that I was searching for. Nodding, I moved back over to my side of the table and continued working. His paper slid closer to mine in the middle of the table. A quick glance showed me that he was working on the same problem I was.

Racing to find the answer first, my eyes scanned the words on the page in front of me. Locating the key word and discovering the answer, I quickly reached over and filled in both papers. He stilled momentarily, his brow furrowed as if he was contemplating what I had written. Then, a slight nod and he was back to work.

The corners of my mouth turned up as a slight grin spread across my face. Focusing on the worksheet, I skipped the next question and concentrated on finding the following answer.

Silently bargaining with myself, "He can search for the even answers and I will tackle the odds."

As I was searching the textbook, I witnessed him completing the next blank on both worksheets. I continued until I located what I had been looking for. Without hesitation, I leaned over and filled in the next answer for us both. We kept using this method of teamwork for the rest of the assignment.

There wasn't any eye contact. No accidental brushing of elbows, or extra notes or doodles in the margins. However, I couldn't stop the blossoming feeling of happiness I felt inside. We had made a connection. It was on his terms, but it was progress. I couldn't wait for more.


	3. Chapter 3

Witness

Chapter Three

It wasn't long before I decided that I needed to integrate my presence into more of his day than just Biology class. I began by sitting at his table during lunch. I brought a book and made it obvious that I wanted nothing more than to simply read and eat my lunch.

At first, he was tense and agitated by my presence. I pretended not to notice and kept up my facade of just wanting a quiet place to read while I ate. It took a few lunches, but finally he relaxed.

I will never forget the day an apple slowly rolled towards my lunch tray. My eyes focused first on the apple, then slowly retraced its path until they fell upon his long twitching fingers. Did he mean for the apple to roll my way? I noticed the stem of the apple was pinched between the first two fingers and thumb of his other hand. Had he been twisting off the stem and it simply slipped through his fingers?

Whether or not it was accidental, I decided it was a sign that I should push him a little. Moving as slow as a snail so as not to startle him, I picked up the apple. Rubbing the side of it against my sleeve, I took a deep breath. He hadn't moved an inch and I wasn't entirely sure he was still breathing. I lifted the apple up to my mouth and bit.

The gasp that exploded from his throat, startled us both. With a racing heart, I gave him a shy smile and rolled the apple back towards him. I could see the trembling of his shoulders and the slight shaking of his head. Bravely, I forced my eyes to search for another pair. The instant my gaze met his, I was captivated.

It felt like he was trying to communicate through our gaze. The intensity of his stare was literally draining me emotionally. If it wasn't for the bell, I am not sure I could have turned away.

All of the students around us began moving, leaving the cafeteria in the direction of their next class. I was distracted only a few seconds, but it was long enough for him to disappear. When I turned back around, he was gone. Standing up and gathering my stuff, I thought about my next class and smiled. Never was I so grateful for Mr. Banner's Biology class.

As I walked through the doorway, I couldn't help but immediately search our lab table to see if it was occupied. Sure enough, he was already there, pen and notebook out and ready. It was going to be a lecture day.

I sat down and silently laughed at myself for actually feeling disappointed that we weren't given another worksheet to complete. My mind kept wandering during the lecture. I stole a few glances his way, but he was focused intently on the teacher. I, however, would have to borrow the notes from one of my peers. I just couldn't keep my attention on the topic. (Not after our probably accidental but monumental sharing of a piece of fruit.)

It wasn't really a surprise when I realized that time had slipped away from me, and class was over. My eyes regained their focus and the object in front of me began to take shape. When did that get there?

On the table, placed between my notebook and bag, was a new red apple. Underneath was a small scrap of paper. The torn edges revealed it had been ripped from a larger piece, possibly from my lab partner's notebook. I lifted the apple, and looked closer. There, in his beautiful manuscript, was a handwritten message.

"You never do what I expect. Thanks."

Of course, it was a Friday afternoon, so I was tortured by this cryptic message all weekend. At first, I had wanted to chase him down and force him to talk to me. Fortunately, I held myself back and did not respond rashly. That would have ruined all of the progress we had made.

I felt like a kid in a candy store. Internally I was jumping up and down. I was thrilled that he had written a message to me!

After much thought, I decided to respond similarly by writing a cryptic message of my own. I was excited to see his reaction during lunch on Monday, when I delivered it. Looking down, I re-read the words I had chosen.

"We're all pretty bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it, that's all." - Andrew

I had become so lost in my thoughts, that I had forgotten that all of this happened many years ago. It took my best friend's gentle hug to bring me back to the present. She suggested that we all take a break and get some lunch. I was surprised that it had already been a few hours since we began.

The wetness on my cheeks also took me by surprise. I must have really been out of it. Quietly, I stood and made my way to her small bathroom. The cold water against my flushed cheeks gave me some relief. A small cool towel pressed against the back of my neck relaxed me further. I focused on taking deep breaths, forcing the overwhelming emotions back down. I had taught myself a long time ago, through meditation, how to push back the panic that always accompanied these memories.

When everything was happening, the emotions bombarding me were such a force that I had many panic attacks. It was such a shock to my system each time, that I had to learn how to control them in order to survive. Eventually, I found it was easier to avoid them altogether. I created a impenetrable box in my mind, and mentally locked those memories into it. I knew where they were if I ever needed them, but they weren't affecting by ability to function normally on a daily basis.

Now that I had opened that lock once again, my mind was in danger of drowning in the flood of emotions that accompanied those memories. Taking some deep breaths, I concentrated on slowing the speed of the onslaught. I pictured the opening as a narrow channel that only allowed a certain amount to escape at a time.

Once I felt mentally prepared to finish what I had started, I pulled open the door. Taking it one step at a time, my feet finally returned me to the couch.

My best friend, Alice, and her husband, Jasper, were both waiting patiently for me. They must have realized that I needed some time before continuing my story. We sat and ate our sandwiches, enjoying light conversation. I listened as they discussed normal things such as grocery needs, a new movie they both wanted to see, and whose turn it was to clean up the kitchen. We were laughing and feeling relaxed. Their patience had allowed me to pull myself back together. We had long finished our meal and had carried our dishes into the kitchen. We were walking back to the couch, when Alice turned towards me and spoke.

"Bella, why did you choose the Breakfast Club quote as your message back to him?"


	4. Chapter 4

Witness

Chapter Four

Tension filled the air around us. It was an innocent question. Alice had no idea of the significance. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. My hands closed into tight fists to control the trembling that was spreading quickly through my system. I imagined a thick wall crashing down across the narrow channel in my mind that was allowing the volatile memories to escape.

Once the mental dam was in place, my breathing calmed and my hands relaxed. Before they could try to comfort me, I opened my eyes and tried my best to explain.

Quotes or references to movies kind of became our thing. It was very helpful, especially at the end. We never knew who might be reading our messages, so we spoke using our invented code. I'm sure you can understand that I never imagined that first message would become our only form of communication when it really mattered. I mean, who thinks that they are going to be in a situation where cryptic messages are the difference between life and death?

A broken sob escaped from my throat. I clenched my fists once again, in an effort to push the emotions back. Deep breaths...in and out...slowly winning the battle...forcing the emotions to let go of me...ready to continue my story.

He was always disappearing into the Library after school. I was hoping he would understand the reason I had chosen that quote. Even though we were obviously from different social groups, I wanted to get to know him and for him to get to know me.

I must have waited close to two weeks, sitting at that table in the Library every day after school, just waiting for him to figure it out. We still worked together on the Biology worksheets, and we continued to share a table at lunch, but that was it. No other cryptic messages, no stray apples, nothing.

I was beginning to wonder if he understood my reference. Did he understand what I was trying to say?

It had been nine school days since I had passed him my note during lunch. I wasn't even sure I felt hungry today. I almost didn't enter the cafeteria, but something inside of me urged me on. I grabbed a small salad and a roll, out of habit. I turned and walked slowly to our table, my eyes focused on the floor. I was dreading sitting across from him, once again, with no interaction.

Just as I reached the table, he stood up. Luckily, I was standing right next to an empty chair. I barely set my lunch tray down before my knees gave out and I collapsed into it. My head fell to my chest, my eyes welling up with tears.

I would have dumped my tray and left, but I didn't have the energy. I'm not sure how long I sat there, but it felt like an eternity. Someone bumped my shoulder as they walked by. I blinked, clearing the tears from my eyes. Three small packages of dressing were laying on the table next to my lunch tray.

Reaching out, I picked one up. While trying to figure out where the packages had come from, I turned it over in my hand. That is when I noticed the writing on the back. Quickly, I reached out and flipped the other two packages over.

Andrew - "Speak for yourself."

Bender - "Do you think I'd speak for you? I don't even know your language."

Edward - "If you want to know mine, you know where to find me."

I couldn't focus during the rest of the afternoon. I went through the motions, attended my classes, responded when necessary, but my mind was elsewhere. As soon as the last bell of the day rang, releasing me, I practically flew to the Library. I didn't pass by my locker; I didn't stop to talk to friends.

As I breezed through the doorway, my eyes quickly scanned the area. There he was, just sitting at my table, waiting. He smiled and stood up. Before I could take another step towards him, he tilted his head directing me towards the shelves on the far left side.

I turned and began walking. His long stride quickly caught up to me. I was concerned he was just going to surpass me, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me along with him. Increasing my pace, I walked alongside him over to the far left shelf. Without slowing, we followed the shelving along the wall towards the back of the building.

I was just about to pull my hand from his before we literally ran into the wall, when he pulled me through a slight opening between the end of the shelf and the wall. The back aisle was hidden from the casual patron. It explained how he had kept disappearing all of those times.

We continued to walk along the backside of the wall until we reached a steep staircase near the opposite end. It was dark, but not quite pitch black. I was able to see the outline of his body, but not the details of his face. My breathing stuttered as my heart began to race. I wasn't sure if I wanted to stay or if I should turn around and go back.

He took my hand and placed it on the railing. Then he took his hand and wrapped it over mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. A feeling of warmth surged through me. This small act was exactly what I needed. It confirmed to me that he wanted to keep me safe from harm.

I decided to put my trust in him awhile longer, and see what would happen next. Slowly and carefully, I climbed the stairs. At the top, I watched as he entered a four-digit code into a keypad.

0-6-2-0

"Bella, you remember the code? That was almost seven years ago."

Nodding my head in agreement, I began to smile. Then tears started welling up, once again, filling my eyes. I didn't fight them. Instead, I just let them cascade down my cheeks. I felt so exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I did my best to explain to my friends the reason for the fresh torrent of tears.

"He always used the same four-digit code for everything. He used to tell me it was his way of leaving an invisible footprint, so if he ever became lost his loved ones would be able to find him."

My voice cracked when I spoke next.

"I tried, Alice...I tried so hard to find him...I couldn't..."

She moved closer and wrapped her arms around me.

"We know you did, sweetheart, we know. We are here to help now."

Jasper placed his hand on my knee.

"Darlin, did he ever mention the significance of those four numbers?"

I was taken back by his question. I was surprised that he didn't get it. It seemed so obvious to me. Taking a deep breath to fill my lungs with the necessary oxygen, I answered softly.

"It's his birthday...June 20th. 0-6-2-0 is the day he was born."

Suddenly, Jasper stood up and walked over to his phone. I could hear him talking to someone, asking him or her to search the numbers isolated and also with the letters b-d-a-y. I looked back at Alice, shaking my head. I was about to tell her he was wasting his time when she spoke first.

"Have a little faith, Bella. The database the marshalls have access to is quite extensive. Much better than that of a basic search engine. They'll find something. They always do. Meanwhile, I want to know what was at the top of those stairs."


	5. Chapter 5

Witness

Chapter 5

I could tell Alice was curious, but I was exhausted and needed another break. She fixed up their guest room with fresh linens and sent me to rest. A few hours later, the delicious aroma of her home-cooked dinner woke me.

After sharing another meal together, we returned to the front room so I could continue my story. I closed my eyes and visualized the room at the top of the stairs.

It was outfitted as a study loft. There was a computer on a desk, a couple of shelves filled with books and a large oversized recliner. There was even a corner area that had supplies like water bottles, snacks, and some blankets.

Jasper commented about how it seemed to be outfitted similar to a safe haven or a panic room. I hadn't really thought about it in that way until now, but it did make sense. I remember thinking back then how odd it was that there weren't any windows.

I guess I never really had the time to think about the surroundings, as he distracted me with something more shocking. I must have been just standing there with my mouth open, amazed and intrigued by all that I had seen thus far. He took my hand and led me over to the desk chair.

Once I was sitting, he turned on the computer. The first thing that booted up was the movie, "The Breakfast Club".

Immediately, I felt the heat on my cheeks as I burned with the fire of embarrassment. I must have covered my face with my hands. The next thing I knew, he was grabbing both of my wrists and pulling my hands down. He motioned back towards the computer, wishing for me to see something. I turned my attention to the screen in front of me.

I recognized the scene that was currently playing, but that wasn't what caught my eye. At the bottom, scrolling across the screen, were the words the characters were saying.

I realized then, that there wasn't any sound. I wondered briefly if his computer didn't have external speakers. Did he use headphones? But, why the captions?

I remembered the packets of dressing. The quote referenced the characters not understanding each others' language. Was this why he never spoke to anyone? Did he speak a different language? Was he trying to learn English?

I looked over my shoulder at him. He was behind me, pacing nervously. This secret he had just shared with me was huge. I could feel his intensity. Of course, at the time I didn't realize that what he had shared was only the tip of the iceberg. If I had understood all of it, I probably would have turned around and ran as fast and as far away as I could. Fortunately, he was smart enough to only feed me the information in small chunks. He gave me time to process what I had learned, before he explained more.

What I did understand at that moment, was that I needed to convince him he could trust me. It was my turn to comfort and calm him. Slowly, I stood up and walked over to him. I placed my hands on his upper arms, halting his pacing.

I looked directly at him, waiting for our eyes to connect. The moment my gaze caught his, I simply told him it was okay. I told him he could trust me. His eyes searched mine, looking for the sincerity to back up my words. Apparently, he found it.

He took some deep breaths and quieted the anxiety coursing through his veins. He grabbed a pen and notebook from the desk and motioned for me to sit next to him on the floor. He wrote two sentences across the top of the page.

"I am deaf. No one can find out."

As you can imagine, questions flooded my mind. We began passing the pen and paper back and forth, me asking question after question and him trying his best to answer with quickly written scribbled notes. He told me the abridged version of what he had witnessed and why he and his family were in hiding. I couldn't believe all that they had been through.

I found out that he had witnessed a brutal murder committed by one of the sons of a high-ranking member of the mafia. It was believed that the motive had to do with the son's drug addiction and the organization's business end of it. The son had been in trouble before, and if this came to trial he would be put away for life. Additionally, a large portion of the business would be exposed and shut down. The mafia was heavily invested in preventing this outcome and was willing to do anything, including making a young deaf teen and his family disappear.

They were all placed here, in the small town of Forks, with new identifications. He was instructed to keep his deafness a secret. A new transfer student with a hearing impairment would have been an instant give-away, even though they had been moved across the country. The marshalls over his case set him up with the refurbished attic and technology so that he could keep up with his studies and have a quiet place where he could let his guard down. (Apparently, it was also a safe haven if he was ever found while at school.)

Over the next few months we spent many hours after school in his loft. He opened up more about his previous life and also began teaching me his language. It was all so exciting and fun, especially when we would sign covertly and communicate across the hall or classroom. I felt special being one of the few included in his circle.

We became quite close and were starting to become more than just study partners and friends. One day, while studying, we shared our goals for the future with each other. He always had a love for the sciences, particularly chemistry. Due partly to what he had witnessed and that his life had so drastically changed because of it, he wanted to work with those addicted to drugs. He hoped to be part of a rehabilitation program where chemistry was used to slowly alter the patient's physical addiction. My goal had always been to become a physician so I could help people.

We began researching the best rehabilitation programs out there. I discovered that the programs had physicians on staff to monitor the patients' overall health while they worked through the steps. We realized that we could both reach our goals at the same facility.

We searched for the Universities that had the most extensive and top programs in both fields of chemistry and medicine. We were making plans for the future. A future that included both of us. Unfortunately, his past caught up with us before we could turn any of the plans into reality.


	6. Chapter 6

Witness

Chapter 6

We were so naive. We thought that he could apply to a University just like every other high school senior. He used his new name and didn't mention his hearing impairment. Just an ordinary young adult male wanting to continue his education and training...we had no idea they were watching for it.

His application was late, barely meeting the deadline. As best we could figure, it was flagged because of his family size and his field of study. That organization's reach is unbelievable! You can't imagine the things we went through because of them.

We were returning to his house after spending some quality time in the loft. The instant we walked through the front door, we both froze. His parents were hurriedly shoving their belongings into large black duffle bags. We must have been standing there for at least five minutes, just staring in disbelief. Finally, his mom noticed us.

She ran over, frantically signing to him. Her hands were moving so fast I couldn't catch all that she was saying. I did, however, understand that somehow he had been found and that they had to leave within the hour. She was pushing him towards the back room, insisting that he start packing his things.

He was trying to tell his mom to wait and slow down, but she was ignoring his signs. Suddenly, his dad threw one of the empty black bags at his chest. He caught it, frowning. The act was effective and so was its intent. By forcing the bag into his hands, his father silenced his arguing. I knew he would be upset and hurt. Basically, he had just been told to "shut-up". No one responds well to that.

I watched his chest expand as he filled his lungs with oxygen. His head started moving side to side, slowly gaining speed. His fists clenched tightly around the fabric of the bag. I could feel the intensity building around us, and I knew this was going to be bad.

I started to move towards him, thinking I could try to calm him down. Before I could reach him, he threw the bag to the ground. A deep growl filled the room. I realized that I had never heard his voice. It was low and had a protective tone. On any other day, it would have made me feel safe.

I took another step towards him and reached out. My fingers gently wrapped around the lower part of his arm. His entire body was trembling. I could tell that he was about to completely lose it. I wasn't sure what to do. I glanced back over to his parents. I expected them to do or say something, but they just stood there. I realized that we were all at a bit of a loss as to what to do next. That was when Marshall Chris arrived.

This short, stocky, balding man walked through the front door as if he lived there. His mere presence seemed to command respect and obedience. I would have felt intimidated, except for the softness around his eyes. He quickly surveyed the situation and then issued instructions to everyone.

The first order of business was to complete the packing. He sent us to fill the empty bag at our feet with things from the back bedroom. As we walked away, I heard him ordering the parents to grab what they had and start loading it into the SUV outside. He told them that the plane was being fueled and would be taking off within the hour. They were to leave with his partner and get everything loaded. The plan was for him to follow with their son and arrive just in time for take off.

My gasp and the new trail of tears quickly let my companion know that I had heard the escape plan. He dropped everything and wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tightly, and shaking his head. He didn't have to hear their words to know what was about to happen.

Marshall Chris stepped into the doorway and motioned for me to follow him. I pulled away slowly from the comforting embrace. Glancing at the empty bag, I looked back into his red rimmed eyes and nodded. Turning around, I followed the Marshall. I figured he was going to walk me out the door and tell me to leave.

My mind was filled with pleas to let us somehow stay in touch, to allow him to live the future we had planned, to not seperate us...but I understood the reality of what was happening. Ever since I had found out about the situation, I had quietly researched the WitSec Program. I knew the basics. Anyone entering the program, had to agree to leave their previous life behind. It was too dangerous to keep in contact with family and friends.

We had only reached the front room, when I started to hyperventilate. The thought of never seeing him again suddenly hit me like a brick. It was too much for me to handle. My legs felt like they were weighed down with cement shoes. My feet had all but stopped. My eyes squeezed shut trying to fight against the pain in my chest. My heart was literally being crushed. My throat was closing up and I couldn't take a deep breath. I tried to take another step, but I stumbled. I was falling.

Two strong arms suddenly wrapped around me from behind. They pulled me backwards against a rock solid chest wall. A small inhale and his scent engulfed me. My body instantly relaxed. We both sort of collapsed into a heap on the floor. I could hear the heavy footsteps walking back our way, but I didn't want to open my eyes and acknowledge them. I just couldn't face the Marshall that wanted to take away my future.

A strong hand rested on my shoulder. When I didn't respond, a gentle but firm voice filled the room.

"Bella, we don't have much time. I need you both to listen very carefully."

I wasn't ever a petulant child, but, I have to admit, now seemed like a very good time to change. Internally, I was in the middle of a full-blown tantrum. Why was this happening? None of this was fair! We had plans...good, well-meaning plans to help others. Couldn't we be selfish just this once?

"Bella, it's not safe for him to stay here. I think you know that. You have been to the loft, correct? You understand why it is necessary for all the secrecy?"

My head nodded slightly, letting him know that I was listening. I just couldn't make myself completely acknowledge him yet.

"Do you know the access code to get inside the loft? Do you know the password to log on to the computer? It won't be for a few weeks, until things are safe again. Once they are, we will use that computer's highly encrypted ip address to covertly communicate with you. It will never be at the same time or from the same account, but he will stay in contact as much as possible. I can't tell you about the future, but I will do everything that I can to make it happen eventually. You both are going to have to be patient. Right now, however, I need to get him out of here. I need you to convince him to not give up and to do everything he can to stay alive."

Slowly, I turned my head to look into the Marshall's eyes. I could see and feel his sincerity. I turned back to look at the angel holding me. His eyes were narrowed and his jaw was clenched tight. I knew that he had read the Marshall's lips and knew exactly what had been said. I also knew that Chris was right. My angel was tired of running and just wanted his life back. We had discussed his frustration and sadness over this whole mess not long ago. He had expressed his wish that day to just end it, one way or another. I had my work cut out for me.

I decided to speak to him, rather than sign. This way I could place a hand on each side of his face and force him to not look away. Taking a deep breath, I forced my emotions down deep inside. I had to be strong for him. I could deal with my sadness and panic after he was safe. Making eye contact, I spoke to him directly.

"I love you. We have plans for the future. I am not ready to give those up. You have to promise me that you will be safe, that you will do whatever it takes to stay alive. You have to promise me that you will come back to me. Please..."

His eyes were filled with desperation and tears. His grip on my arms tightened as if he was afraid to let go. I think we both knew that it would be a miracle if we ever saw each other again.

Pulling his face towards mine, our lips connected. His muscles stiffened. The shocked reaction of both men would have been funny if not for the life and death situation we were all in. Maybe it wasn't the ideal first kiss, but I didn't feel any regret for my action. It had been a spur of the moment decision, and I was glad I had acted on it. Besides, maybe this would kick his desire to fight up a notch or two.

As quickly as it happened, I pulled away and stood up. Without looking back, I walked outside. I was afraid if I stopped, I wouldn't be able to leave. It only took me a few minutes to locate the path that would lead me back to town. It cut through the forest, rather than following the road, and would provide me with the privacy to let the barrage of emotions out.

I was about to disappear around the bend, when I heard footsteps behind me. I stopped where I was, bracing myself for another goodbye. His hands grabbed my shoulders and turned my body to face him. Two of his long fingers pressed against my lips, letting me know that it was his turn to talk. Silently, I nodded my head, agreeing to listen. He took a step back and began to sign. Even though his hands were moving slowly enough for me to keep up, I could feel the heavy emotion behind each one.

"I love you too. You are my life, now. Please be careful. They are relentless and sneaky. Trust your instincts. If something doesn't feel right, then it isn't. Don't doubt yourself. You also have to promise me that you will stay safe! I need to know that you will do whatever it takes to reach our dream. I will do everything in my power to return to you, but you can't stop living. Promise me..."

I opened my mouth to answer, but he silenced my words with a kiss. Not like the quick peck I had given him, but an all-consuming toe-curling kiss. His lips were so soft. I silently prayed for time to freeze. I never wanted our connection to end. My hands reached out, gripping his shirt, desperately trying to hold on. His fingers grazed my cheekbones. Tipping my head forward, he placed his lips gently against each of my closed eyelids and then once on my forehead. Three small butterfly kisses, and he was gone.


End file.
